


Drunk

by lextaff



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Apologies, Drinking, Feelings, Fighting, M/M, Making Out, Sharing a Bed, Teasing, That happens in Part II, There will be a Part II, Work In Progress, no smut yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextaff/pseuds/lextaff
Summary: Anon requested: Hey, I’ve been love your work, and I have the strangest feeling you need requests, so... For that 100 Sex Prompts thing, could you do 81 (drunk) with Jamilton when you get the chance?What happens when an apologetic Secretary of State sits down at a bar next to the drunk Secretary of Treasury? Feelings, and talking, and teasing, (AND EVENTUAL SEX) ensue. Porn happens in chapter two, which is not yet posted. Sorry y'all, I jut felt like I needed to post something.





	Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lextaff and request me some stuff guys. And PART II is coming!! (just like the characters, haha) This took me wayyyyy too long to write, which is why I am posting it half-done right now, so I can at least post something. The rest will be out shortly.

Alexander had had a bad day, so he was just going to sit here and drink in peace with no one to bother him. Work ran long, Washington kept piling on the work with no end in sight and it wasn’t like anyone else was helpful in getting through it. He stayed late normally, that wasn’t unusual, but this time he stayed even later, and he didn’t want to. And the work wasn’t even interesting! He didn’t have a problem with working overtime (he did that frequently, much to the chagrin of his coworkers) if the work was interesting, but this was just tedious paperwork he had to read and occasionally strike a line here or there. His talents weren’t being used, just his pen, and that was his least favourite work. Washington knows this, and yet he still gives him stacks of useless paperwork now and then. He says its company policy to fill them out and keep them up to date, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

And Jefferson! The asshole that plagued him during work hours, who refused to cooperate or even listen to his plans! Alex wouldn’t have a problem with it (yes, he would) if the man disagreed with him _after_ listening to his proposals and actually thinking them over, but Jefferson didn’t actually _listen_ , he just disagreed because they were Hamilton’s plans. The man was so stubborn and so infuriatingly dense, but unfortunately, he was capable enough to cause roadblock after roadblock in Alex’s plans, enough that they had never even made it to the floor of Congress. And another thing. It’s not like the prick ever proposed his _own_ plan, he just impeded mine, Alex thought angrily. It doesn’t help that the bastard is annoyingly attractive, especially when he’s angry. Thank God it hadn’t yet affected Alex’s speech in front of him, when that happened it would be an absolute nightmare. He wasn’t _attracted_ to him per se, he could just appreciate aesthetic good looks. As if he’d be attracted to someone with such a horrific attitude and opinion on human rights.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. No, he was not going to dwell on these unfortunate… circumstances, he was just going to sit here and drink. He downed his bourbon in one go and waved the lady over and ordered two more. He was sitting in a dingy booth in the darkest corner of the bar, away from all the rowdy bargoers. He wasn’t feeling extremely social. It was quiet and dark in his corner, so he just laid his head in his hands and let the wrathful thoughts of Jefferson overtake him for a few minutes until he raised his head and realised he already finished the drinks on his table. He got the lady to bring another, but in the process, he spotted the aforementioned jackass talking to someone near the door and groaned. His head resumed the spot it previously vacated in his hands and willed him to go away. He thought, maybe if he doesn’t see me, I’ll be left alone. And this was apparently working, at least until he looked up and _the devil himself_ slid into the booth opposite him.

 He flashed a breathtaking grin at Alex that made his stomach flip, before ordering a drink and charming the waitress into making it free. Damn it. “Can you just-” he started, but when Jefferson turned his grin back on him and it began to falter at his tone, he groaned inwardly at himself. “What do you want?” He sighed, tiredly.

“You looked lonely, over here in the dark.”

“Ha, sure. It’s not like I could’ve _wanted_ to be alone, then?” He scoffed, not in the mood for this bullshit. “You can go, Jefferson,” he finished coldly. He waved the lady over again for more bourbon. When he turned back to Jefferson expecting a glare or something, he was taken aback when all he was saw was an impassive stare. He stared intensely at Alex, boring into his eyes, and Alex let him until he thought he noticed Jefferson’s pupils dilating almost imperceptibly.

At that moment, the lady sidled up to the booth and plopped the drinks down, causing them both to flinch. “Ya should really slow down, ya know, or I’ll have to call ya a cab,” she remarked. Alex grunted in response.

“I’ll have some more as well, please,” came Jefferson’s cool voice.

“Okay, gentlemen, sure,” and with that, she walked off, leaving them alone once more.

Alex was left to ponder if he _actually_ saw that little eye movement, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He glanced up at Jefferson, who was now staring at the drink in Alex’s hand for want of a drink in his own. The lady came back to give Jefferson his poison, and Alex watched as he downed the first one in one go, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. Unfair. Stupid, perfect, pretty- he cleared his throat and shook himself slightly to dislodge that train of thought from wherever it was going. “So, did you actually come over here with a purpose? Because I really don’t buy that you came to sit by _me_ of all people because you ‘thought’ I was lonely.” He made air quotes around ‘thought’ to emphasize his point.

A flash of nervousness crossed Jefferson’s face before he started, and Alex definitely didn’t imagine that. Interesting. “Okay, so, look. I’m not the best at these, so just bear with me.” Jefferson fiddled with the glass between his long fingers and Alex was torn between imagining those fingers twirling around something else, and curiosity about what Jefferson was going to say. What was he saying? This didn’t make sense. Was he going to ask him out on a date? Was he – “I’m sorry…” began Jefferson, “for how I’ve been treating you at work.” What? Did he really just hear _Thomas Jefferson_ apologize to _him?_ He continued, “I know I’m a bitch to work with, I’m uncooperative and a bad listener and other things, so I just wanted to apologize.” He quickly looked up at Alex and grinned. “As entertaining as pissing you off may be, that’s usually not what I’m going for.”

Alex looked at him with barely concealed shock. He snorted at the last bit, “Good job on that one then,” and Jefferson’s grin slipped ever so slightly. Alex looked down to fully process what he said. He might’ve been a bit more drunk than he thought, because when he finally absorbed the words and looked back up at Jefferson, he had downed his second drink and was nervously fiddling with the empty glass. Alex was still suspicious of Jefferson’s motives for this, his drinking was bringing out his paranoia, but Alex couldn’t see another reason for his words other than sincerity. With that in mind, he opened his mouth to respond. Then he thought better of it, downed his remaining shot on the table, and tried again. “Thank you, I guess.” Jefferson’s head whipped up when he heard him speaking, but Alex was staring at the table. “It’s not like our fighting is one sided…” Alex mumbled. He finally raised his eyes and looked at Jefferson square-on. “I can’t be that much fun to work with either, so my apologies for that.” Jefferson nodded and dropped his gaze, but something he just said to Alex clicked. “So, what are you usually going for with me?”

Jefferson raised his head and looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

“You said you’re not usually aiming to piss me off even though it’s apparently entertaining to you.” The corner of his lip quirked up in half a smile. “So, what are you trying for when you piss me off?”

“Ah, see, now I’m usually trying to have a discussion, but you don’t listen,” he grinned.

“That’s not true! The reason I get so upset is because I _do_ listen, to every single point of your atrocious backwards points, you prick, you’re the one who doesn’t listen,” Alex hissed.

“Me?!” Jefferson snarled. “How can you say that? All I ever do is listen to your whiny rants that take up useful congressional debate hours when I’d rather be doing anything else with my time.”

“Oh, your _time_ , your precious _time_ ,” he sneered. “What would the mighty Thomas Jefferson ever do without his beloved _time_. Maybe he would –” 

“Ok, look, let’s not fight, that’s not what I wanted when I came over here.” He looked apologetically at Alex, who seethed.

However, it was hard for him to stay mad as the force of the ten or so drinks he’d had in such a short period of time hit him all at once. He blinked up at Jefferson but his witty retort got lost on his lips, and all he could do was stare at the annoyingly perfect features in front of him. He wanted to tug on those springy little curls and see if it made Jefferson moan. He wanted to nip and bite his way along that frustratingly perfect jawbone, to lick and suck at his neck until he found all the sensitive spots there, he wanted that mouth to do the same to him and make him fall apart underneath him.

None of this escaped Jefferson’s notice, who asked, “Hamilton?” when the staring didn’t stop. “Are you alright?” he said, voice just slightly deeper and more lilted than usual.

And Alex, the master of witty flirtation, responded with a whispered awe, “You’re so pretty…” and then he dropped his head in his hands, overcome by a fit of giggles. He peeked up at Jefferson through his fingers and laughed again at the bewildered expression on his face.

Jefferson sighed and shook his head. “You’re drunk,” he stated.

“Noooo, I’m not,” he giggled. “Okay, maybe I am, but just a little.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes and stood up, but before he could get anywhere, his arm was seized by Alex, who tried to tug him back to sitting. “Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”

“Uh, Hamilton…” He tried to wriggle out of his grip, but to no avail. “Look, I’ll be back, I just have to pay for the drinks before we leave, or they’ll call the cops on us. You racked up quite a bill,” he added sheepishly.

Alex stared at him for a moment, before finally loosening his grip. “You’re coming back?” He asked, just to make sure.

“Yes.”

He looked down and let go of Jefferson’s wrist, “Fine, then.”

 

As he walked over to the bar to deal with the bill, Thomas’s thoughts were racing. He could still feel the imprint of Hamilton’s fingers in his skin – it burned, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. And Hamilton thought he was pretty? Where did that come from? Well, as he thought about it, he supposed it wasn’t too surprising, he _was_ good looking, after all. What was more surprising was that Hamilton had _said_ he thought he was pretty. Hamilton must be really drunk to have admitted that. And he didn’t want him to leave? What was that about? He suddenly stopped short, and groaned. “Ugh.” He had to make sure he got home safe. If something happened to Hamilton, as much as he hated to admit it, the capital would grind to a halt, Washington would be distraught, and it would be all his fault. What did he manage to get himself into?

He sighed, and asked the lady for the bill, and as she was bringing it up, he had the brilliant idea to turn around and glance back at Hamilton, who was apparently, trying to stand up. He rushed over to where Hamilton was struggling to pull himself out of the booth and thankfully Thomas caught him before his idiocy had the chance to deposit him on the floor. “What’re you doing?” He growled at Hamilton, “I thought I told you to stay put.”

From the center of Thomas’s chest came a muffled, “You left,” and that just about melted his heart as Hamilton clung around his sides tightly.

Thomas stood there for a second working through the incoherent mush that his brain had turned into after Hamilton’s comment, fuming that he reacted this way to the other man. It was _annoying_. How could he hate him properly when Hamilton decided not to act like a political robot incapable of affection? He took a deep breath to eradicate the lingering mush and peeled Hamilton off of his waist, but before the other man could protest, Thomas picked him up and Hamilton promptly snuggled into his arms. He froze as Hamilton fastened his arms around his neck and got a little too close for comfort by resting his head on Thomas’s shoulder, and letting his eyes slide shut.

“Fuck this,” Thomas grumbled as he stepped back up the bar where the lady was now ready for him so pay. It was a struggle to find his wallet and hand her the money while maneuvering around the drunk man-child in his arms, but somehow, he managed.

“Thank ya.” She eyed Hamilton, unimpressed. “Ya look pretty smashed. Would ya like me to call ya a cab, there, darling?”

“Yes, please,” Thomas replied courteously, ignoring the ‘I told you so’ that was obvious in her tone. “I walked here, I was planning on being too drunk to drive home, but now…”

She nodded, uninterested. Thomas unfortunately had time to look at Hamilton, unabashedly, from such a close distance. Knowing that he would most certainly never be presented with this opportunity again, he made sure it was worthwhile. He catalogued every little stray hair that framed his face, noting how soft and downy it appeared. Hamilton’s eyes, currently hidden from his view, were the most brilliant green and they were easy to get lost in. His features were less angular and sharp, more rounded out, but it worked for him. His skin was pale and beautiful in a ghostly way, almost glowing. His cheekbones and jawline fit his face perfectly, but he noticed how sunken his eyes were and how thin his face appeared to be. He also realized that supporting his weight was nothing – he was way too light to be healthy, probably managed to forget to eat while obsessing about work. Thomas would fix that. He could make him a huge breakfast in the morning. Wait. What? Where the hell did that come from?

The bartender caught his attention, and informed him that their ride was here, interrupting the distressing path his thoughts had taken him on. He glanced down at Hamilton, still asleep, and thanked the bartended before heading outside into the chill. He spotted the cab pretty quickly; it was still fairly early, so it was the only cab parked outside the bar. He opened the door and set Hamilton on the seat, but doing so caused him to stir and when Thomas tried to pull away, he was unable to, because Hamilton had wrapped himself around Thomas once again.

“No, don’t leave me, please, Jefferson, stay, don’t leave–”

“Hamilton, I swear to God,” he muttered. Then, louder, “Let go of me! I’m not going anywhere. Just sit still.”

Hamilton froze at the castigation, and reluctantly released his hold around Thomas. He stared up at Thomas with an intensity that made him shiver, and Thomas quickly shut the door. He took a moment to collect himself and let the cold night air wash over him, and hopefully clear his mind a little, before walking around to the other side of the car and getting in.

“Where you going?” Grunted the driver as soon as he got himself situated.

“Virginia,” came the slurred response from beside him and the cabbie’s eyebrows raised so high they disappeared. “He lives in Virginia,” Hamilton continued.

“Yeah, well, I’m not driving you to Virginia. I’ll drive you to an airport though, how’s that?”

“No, not the airport, please.” Thomas gave him his New York address and they took off. “Sorry about my friend,” he apologized. “He’s drunk.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Thomas rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night, and his gaze settled once again on Hamilton, who was still staring at him with those stupid green eyes. “You called me your friend,” he said, in wonder, before he scooted closer to Thomas on the seat.

“I… suppose I did.” Thomas looked down uncomfortably.

“Well,” Hamilton scooted even closer, “Did you mean it?”

“Hamilton, I–”

“Alex. My name is Alex.”

Thomas blinked. This was new. “Alex,” he said cautiously, trying it out. “I–” He cut himself off before he could say anything more stupid than this: “Yes.”

Alex surged forward and managed to climb into his lap and fiercely kiss him, all in one fluid motion that took Thomas’s breath away. The kiss was messy, a result of one of them being plastered, but there was a spark of something primal in it that they both felt. Alex pressed their lips together softly and pawed at his chest while Thomas took the opportunity to restart his brain for like the third time tonight and sighed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Alex. It was soft, and perfect, and everything they thought it would be. It wasn’t greedy or demanding, it was just a question and untapped warmth. 

A question that was rudely interrupted by the driver’s announcement of “We’re here, now go get a room.”

They broke apart and stared at each other in the dim light, both breathing slightly heavier. Thomas’s head was rushing around in circles of ‘what just happened’ and ‘why am I okay with this.’ He supposed the other man _was_ quite attractive, even though he would never admit that aloud, he came to that realization earlier. But simple aesthetic attraction wasn’t… whatever _this_ was, this was something different and that scared Thomas. He knew if anything happened between them, which apparently, it was, he would want it to be real and to last. After his last relationship, he didn’t think he could handle another epic heartbreak like that. He was sure Ham– Alex, was just looking for something for the night, a quick and meaningless fuck, but Thomas, God forbid, had feelings for the asshole. Well, they could talk about it in the morning, because Alex was apparently staying at his house overnight. Even as sure as he was that Alex wasn’t looking for any commitment, there was still that lingering glimmer of hope, which Thomas knew would hurt like hell when it was squashed. But the look in Alex’s eyes earlier… Thomas thought he could see the possibility of a future there. No, he probably imagined it. But, maybe? He had to stop this, reading into everything and imagining things in other’s eyes, it was dangerous and that’s what usually got him hurt.

Thomas just needed to stop thinking, so he grabbed his wallet and dug out enough cash to cover the bill, and stepped out of the cab. He walked around to the other side of the cab and scooped Alexander up into his arms and started walking toward the building. He supposed that having Alex literally two inches from his face didn’t exactly help with the ‘not thinking’ he wished to be doing, because when he glanced down at Alex, Alex kissed him again. He stopped walking and automatically tightened his arms around Alex, stopping dead in his tracks. It was soft and sweet, just like the last one, but Thomas couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. He turned his head and broke the kiss, shifting Alex away so it would be difficult for him to kiss him again. Alex made a little dejected sound that damn near broke his heart, but he steeled himself and kept walking towards the door.

When he got to the door, he had to pause and reach for his keys to unlock it, which meant he had to shift Alex again. He moved Alex so he could hold him with just one arm and dig in his pockets with the other, and Alex automatically wrapped his arms around Thomas and placed his head in the crook of his neck, and with his warm breath puffing so close over his skin, Thomas stilled for a second before his brain caught up to himself, and he kept working at the door.

Thomas walked through the sweeping apartment until he got the bedroom and dumped Alex on top of the covers. He began stripping Alex as fast as possible so he didn’t have to drag this out, but things didn’t exactly go his way. Alex wasn’t exactly helping him, but when Thomas yanked his shirt off over his head, Alex decided that was the perfect time to hit him with bedroom eyes. As he was undressing him. _Perfect._ He reached down to undo Alex’s shoes and tug off his socks, before he pushed Alex back on the bed and started to undo his belt and the button on his jeans. “Eager, are we?”

Thomas blushed. “Shut up. Will you help me, please?”

Alex arched off the bed to assist with the removal of his lower garments, and Thomas tried not to watch the curve of his back and imagine what his face would look like if he was arching for a different reason.

Thomas blushed deeper, and threw the clothes in a heap on the floor, turned, and nearly ran from the room. “Where are you going?” Alex called after him.

“Kitchen,” he shot back. Thomas just needed to get out of the bedroom, with Alex laying mostly naked in his bed, looking at him like _that._ He stood in front of the sink, taking a deep breath, then splashed some cooling water on his face. “Motherfucker.” Alexander Hamilton was in his bed. Drunk, in only underwear. How did he manage to get himself into these situations? “Bad decisions,” he muttered to himself. He splashed some more water on his face, remembering the original reason he had for leaving his room. You know, other than the gorgeous, nearly-naked man in his bead. Said gorgeous nearly-naked man was smashed, and would have one hell of a hangover in the morning. Thomas grabbed a glass and filled it with water, then rummaged in the cabinets till he found some Ibuprofen, and carried both back to the bedroom with him.

He was hindered, however, by Alex laying in a heap on the floor. “What the hell, man.” He side-stepped around Alex to reach the bedside cabinet and set down his items, before kneeling next to Alex. Upon further inspection, he discovered that Alex was, in fact, asleep. He groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. He picked Alex up for the second time tonight, “Alright, come on now,” pulled back the covers and put him in the bed, then pulled the covers over him so he wouldn’t get too cold.

He turned around and was ready to leave and set up for the night on the couch, but Alex grabbed his arm and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”

Thomas groaned again and replied, “Alex, I have to go to sleep.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed right here.” Thomas looked dubious, so Alex continued. “When you left earlier, I tried to follow you. I guess I didn’t get very far,” he said, in a small voice.

“You-” Thomas took a deep breath. “That’s why you were on the floor? You tried to follow me?”

Alex just nodded. “Please, just stay here, don’t leave me again…”

Alex was chipping away at whatever resolve Thomas has left, so he acquiesced. “Okay, fine.” He looked hesitant. “But you have to let go of me.” Alex released his arm, and Thomas stepped back. He stripped to his boxers, pretending not to notice how Alex’s eyes tracked every move he made, then he slid into the bed. “Scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”

“Make me.”

Thomas’ breath hitched.

There was a loaded beat of silence as they stared inches from each other, and then Alex leaned forward and kissed him roughly, clearly showing his intent. Thomas moaned and licked into his mouth, causing Alex to whine. Thomas grinned, then caught himself and pulled back, breathing heavily due to the lack of air. Alex tried to chase his lips, but stopped when Thomas put a hand on his chest. Alex glanced up at him, but quickly looked back down, as if worried. “Did I do something wrong?” He whispered.

“Oh, honey, no, not at all.” Alex didn’t seem convinced, and Thomas felt awful for even making him think that. “Look, Alex…” he said pleadingly.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, voice cracking. Thomas could see tears budding at the corner of the smaller man’s eyes, and he felt his heart shatter in his chest. Alex tried to turn away, but Thomas wouldn’t let him.

“It’s not that I don’t like you like this, okay? It’s not that at all, trust me.” Alex still looked doubtful, so he kept going. “If I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t have let you kiss me all those times. And you wouldn’t be in my bed.” Thomas half-smiled at Alex to lighten the mood a little, and was rewarded with Alex shyly smiling back. “I really do want you, it’s just…” Thomas gestured wildly. “Not like this,” he finished.

“Not like what, Thomas?” Alex asked, looking hurt again.

Thomas sighed. “You’re really drunk. You’re like, hammered,” he said in a rush. “I don’t think you’ll remember this in the morning. If this does happen between us, I want it to be a good memory, I don’t want you to remember it as me taking advantage of you when you’re blacked out. I want it to mean something, I want it to be real. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret when you’re sober. I lo–” he cut himself off there, before he could ramble anymore, and say something _he’d_ regret.

But Alex wasn’t paying attention to his internal struggle. He was beaming at him, his eyes shining with hope and promise. “When did you become such a _sap_?” He teased.

Thomas stared at him for just a second before shoving him in the shoulder and turning away from him. “Shut up,” he griped. Alex grinned and snaked his arms around Thomas, gently skimming his fingers across his flesh. Thomas sighed and relaxing into the touch, before realizing what Alex’s intent was. “Alex…” he breathed as a warning.

Alex pinched his nipple right as he said, “Yes, dear?” causing Thomas to cry out and cant his hips forward into nothing.

“D-Did you…” Thomas stammered. “Did you even listen to what I just said?”

“Oh, I listened,” replied Alex as he grabbed Thomas’s hips from where they moved to and pulled them back to rest against his own, and Thomas’s breath caught. “I just didn’t _obey_ you.” He punctuated that word with an iniquitous roll of his hips, pressing his length into the crack of Thomas’s ass and grinding, drawing a groan from Thomas. Thomas shivered and opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by Alex lavishing open-mouthed kisses all down his neck and shoulders. Alex whispered, “Speechless is a good look on you, baby.”

Thomas whimpered. Then groaned. And not in a sexy way. He rolled back over and pushed Alex off of him, panting. “Alex, you have to stop.”

Alex’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, really?” He reached forward and made grabby-hands at Thomas’s groin.

Thomas grabbed his hands and pinned them down in between them, effectively stopping Alex’s wandering mind. “Yes, really. If you don’t stop, I will go and sleep on the couch without you. Do you want me to leave?” he added, rather harshly.

Alex looked floored for a moment. “No, I-I want you to stay here. With me. Please.”

Thomas grinned triumphantly. “Good. Now turn over and go to sleep.”

Alex pouted, but petulantly did as he was told. “So, I’m the little spoon now?” He paused. “You are going to cuddle with me, right?”

His grin faltered. “Yes, just give me a few minutes.” Thomas was currently laying on his side, facing away from Alex to conceal his boner. He was only human, after all.

Alex quickly fell asleep, a side affect of the alcohol, and Thomas once more had a moment of realization where his brain yelled ALEXANDER HAMILTON IS IN YOUR BED!!! at him, followed by the subsequent conflicting feelings about what had transpired between them throughout the evening. Thomas tried not to despair, but he really wanted whatever was happening between them to be real and long-term, not just a quick fuck. And Alex… well he didn’t really know how Alex felt about it. And how he felt could change by morning. Thomas wrestled with these thoughts until they wore him out and he finally fell asleep, wrapped around Alex.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya liked! Once again, PART II is coming, and find me on tumblr @lextaff


End file.
